Every hero starts with power. He started with dust.
One moment, the classroom buzzed with teenage chatter. The next, silence fell. Students blinked—and opened their eyes in an ancient hall carved from gold and marble. The air shimmered with divine magic. And at its center stood a goddess—flawless, proud, unbelievably beautiful and wrapped in flowing white.
It was a divine summoning performed by a divine goddess.
Among them was Vritra… and his stunningly beautiful mother.
While others received blessings, powerful physiques and grand titles, Vritra was given a skill so pathetic it made even the goddess wrinkle her nose. An ability—so pitifully weak that it drew laughter, scorn, and even disgust. But that wasn't the worst part.
Betrayed and cornered inside the labyrinth, Vritra had two choices: die… or fall into the death trap.
A death canopy with no exit and no chance of survival, the only option was to slaughter the demons endlessly for months.
Finally!! He forced his dormant skill to awaken, after killing thousands and hundreds of thousands demons and devouring them, becoming a broken ability.
******
White robes. Cold arrogance
A sinful revenge.
White robes can stain. And in the dark, even divinity can moan.
And then there was his mo— guilt in her breath, shame in her eyes, whispering apologies between gasps in her son's ear, doing what had to be done… for both their sakes.
